Before there was Orthrus, in a past barely visible through the fog of suffering and war there was merely a slave. A black vixen insulting called a dog stuck on a chain. She had long forgotten her own name, the only memories of her life a distant voice of her mother calling to her. A delicate flower that had raised her daughter in the ash of an apocalypse, being a housewife and a home maker as best she could. The mother of the black beast in a cage had done her best to protect her daughter when finally the uncaring world came to wipe the rust and bone filled crater the group of mutant foxes had dared to try and make a home. Though she had never picked up a blade longer than a kitchen knife when the lungs of hell opened before her she grabbed a hot iron poker and fought like a demon to see her daughter safely escaped. In her final as a young fox cried and called out to her to follow, she fought what must have been an army in the eyes of her sole child. She lived as a peaceful woman, a mother who merely wanted to give her daughter something she could never had, and chose to die as a warrior would even if she could only delay her own demise.

The caged beast had forgotten what cruelty had led to her being caught, nor how long she had spent with slave shackles on her wrists and neck. She honored her mother with the name "Cerberus" for holding guard over the very gates of hell for as long as she could manage, wishing one day she could find what little was left of her to bury so she might find a final peace. This emotional weakness was what was used against her as a servant. Beatings, whips, and bloody blades did nothing to her. Pain flowed off like rainwater during a storm, no matter how violent it was only a mere moment of suffering. Two young foxes born as slaves were given to her to care. When she would refuse something they would threaten to starve the younglings, later on threatening to do so much worse if the beast was not obediant. Despite a murderous desire in her heart against those that held her as property, a hole in her heart from knowing she was the one who might get those two children that called her their mother would kill her. She insisted they didn't call her that so she might steel herself, but their small hands would hug her tighter and call out to her as if she birthed them. When she was put on display as a trophy for the richest of the most wealthy raiders to gawk at she withstood their attention knowing it kept those two innocent ones safe. A cry of pain cut through the chattering hall around her, her arms tugging on her chains to get closer so she could hear better what made the noise. Someone was calling out bids as another someone loudly slapped a slave who was crying. It was too distant to make out numbers, but the fear in the sobbing of whomever was being sold put the black dog on edge. Two shrill voices screamed for "mom" at the top of their lungs before angry shouting and another slap was heard. They were selling her babies.

Rage boiled her blood instantly. Bloodshot eyes popped and sclera went dark as her adrenal glands dumped EVERYTHING they had. Bolts in the ground creaked as chains meant to hold down steers quaked. Nuclear fire shone behind the beasts eyes as it screamed out in a primal fury. Her eyes appeared as if they were two nuclear bombs going off at midnight, muscles under her fur tightening as instinct and billowing hysteria blasting her body beyond the normal limits of her conscious strength. Chains reached their limit and hissed as they bit into steeled muscles, exploding as the crowd that had for a moment laughed at the straining vixen now grew fearful. The beast's arms ripped steel bars apart and was instantly upon them. With bare hands it dug a charnel pit through the crowd, anyone offering a mere moment of resistance rapidly becoming a pile bloody gristle and shattered bones. Tonight they had gone too far in their actions, assuming they could sell the only thing keeping the obsidian fox in line and face no repercussions. She would leave with her adopted children tonight, and no matter how many men they sent to stop her they would all share the same fate. They would give her liberty or they would give her death.

Chains broken by  hitmore